Page 111 of Amnesia

Amnesia jolted in my arms, but I pulled back casually, more used to Ms. Scarlet’s ways. “I’m just about done stocking up. You can take your pick,” I told her with a smile.

Her eyes slid to Am. I cleared my throat. “Amnesia, this is Ms. Scarlet. She has lived here—” I started, but Ms. Scarlet cut me off.

“Since the beginning of time.”

Amnesia smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

“Let me take a look at you, girl,” she said, shuffling closer. Ms. Scarlet handed me her bag, and I took it so she could grasp Am by the chin and study her face.

“Hmm,” she said, finally releasing her. “I can see why Eddie is so taken with ya.”

“Thank you…?” Amnesia replied.

“He’s an ornery one, this boy. When he was young, he used to carry frogs in his pockets. Nothing but trouble,” she muttered.

Amnesia laughed. “Frogs!”

Looking at Am, I said, “Ribbit.”

She laughed even harder.

Scarlet looked at Am again, then at me. “Could be, Eddie. But I don’t think it really matters.”

I knew exactly what she meant. “You’re right,” I said softly. “It doesn’t.”

Ms. Scarlet poked around in the apples a few minutes and selected only one. Afterward, she took her bag from me and put the fruit inside. “Come along,” she beckoned, heading toward the register. “It’s time for me to be heading home.”

I winked at Am. She giggled. “I’ll just go help Maggie.”

At the counter, I rang up Ms. Scarlet carefully packing her things back into her bag. “Do you need some help outside?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not an invalid.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said.

“And you need to fix that display of rice back there. One of the boxes is loose and dented. I was damn near crushed when I walked by!”

“I’ll do that right away.” I promised.

I bet when she woke up in the morning, down in hell, the devil sighed.

Even though she told me she didn’t need help, I walked her to the front entrance anyway and held open the door. “It was nice seeing you. I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

Just before stepping outside, she stopped beside me and glanced up. Her white hair was short, her face bore wrinkles, but her blue eyes were clear and sharp. “It’s good to see you happy again,” she said, reaching out and taking my hand. “It’s been too many years since I’ve seen that glint in your eyes.”

“Thank you,” I said. My heart held a special place for Ms. Scarlet.

“I know I only just met her, but my old eyes don’t miss a thing. She’s a keeper. Don’t you let her go.”

I shook my head. “I won’t.”

She nodded once, satisfied. “Good.”

With that, she walked onto the porch, down the steps, and into the sunshine.

The feeling of being watched crawled up my back like a long-legged spider. Each of its eight legs left a trail of discomfort and a stark need to slap at my skin to brush it away.

There was no spider, though, and as I gazed around, I saw no eyes.

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